


Water is Sweeter than Blood

by Witness_ME_Losers



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula HATES everyone, Blood, Crazy Azula, Crazy Jet, F/M, Gore, I'm Sorry, I'm not sorry, James Dean Daydream, Jealousy, Jet WANTS Zuko, M/M, Minor Jet/Azula, My Bastardized Version of Vampires, Shameful Nudity, Shameless Jet, Shameless Nudity, Smut, They don't sparkle, Vampire!Azula, Vampire!Jet, Vampire!Zuko, Vampires!, Violence, Zuko HATES Jet, Zuko is not prepared, and who knows what else?, especially Zuzu, possessive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witness_ME_Losers/pseuds/Witness_ME_Losers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>VAMPIRES! Zuko never listens to his gut when it matters the most and now he's forced to live his miserable life in the dark as a fabled immortal, because of this, he's perfectly content to stay as far away from his sire as he possibly can. Unfortunately for him, circumstances force him back to his master's waiting arms, but his sire is a popular philanderer with many secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zuko_of_Asgard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuko_of_Asgard/gifts), [As_Mundane_As_NEVERMORE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/As_Mundane_As_NEVERMORE/gifts).



> For ISIL_x_THISTLE and As_Mundane_As_NEVERMORE because they be my besties. I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Water is Sweeter than Blood**

Something told him that he shouldn't trust this boy with the devil-may-care attitude, but Zuko was never one to listen to his gut instincts when it came to the more important aspects of his life. So like a lamb, he follows the wolf into his den . . . setting the boy down upon the couch where any of his friends/followers could walk in and see them if they happen to wake, Jet throws his shirt off and beings working on the boy's clothes. There is something about this boy that sets his black blood on fire. Trailing his tongue up the hot skin of the teen's neck, Jet latches his mouth onto the skin located beneath the mortal's jaw and begins suckling at tender flesh. The quiet moan the younger teenager lets out makes Jet's blood sing. Pulling away with an audible pop, Jet licks his lips, savoring the lingering taste of what could only be described as smoky, and stares directly into the boy's eyes, the human looks up at him with those beautiful light hazel eyes through dark lashes, and oh dear Lord, this boy would become sin itself if Jet were to **change** him right now. Instead, Jet lightly smacks the guy's outer thigh.

"I'm going to need you to spread your legs."

The raven haired teen blushes a deliciously bright red but does as ordered. Jet kneels between the teen's spread legs, he traces the teen's lips with his fingers before slipping them inside the other's mouth, Jet offers a kind smile while rubbing soothing circles upon the guy's milky white hip.

"You're going to have to get them wet or this will be a very unpleasant experience." he notices the apprehension in the guy's eyes, quickly coming to the conclusion that his fiery partner is a **virgin,** "Don't worry, I'm going to make this feel as good as I possibly can. I'm going to be so good to you, so good, you'll see." hesitantly, the teen begins tonguing the digits, Jet exhales happily, "Good boy~."

Said **boy** narrows his eyes and promptly spits Jet's fingers out and hisses at him, "Zuko."

"Huh?"

"My **name** is Zuko in case you forgot." Zuko sneers and there's that fire, "Don't call me **boy."**

Jet grins, he likes this particular mortal, "Well then, **Zuko,** I'll make you feel **so** good you won't know anything **but** my name."

"I highly doubt that." Zuko scoffs, his eyes narrow on Jet, **"Jet."**

Hearing his name spit out by Zuko like it were venom has Jet rock hard, grin widening, he brings his spit slicked fingers to Zuko's entrance:

"Well, we'll just have to **see,** won't we~?"

Zuko continues glaring at him but there's a hint of uneasiness in his eyes, leaning forward, Jet inhales Zuko's heady scent before flicking his tongue out and lapping at the pale teen's erection, he hears Zuko gasp, the teen trying to move his hips **away** from Jet's tongue. Not particularly wanting the other to get away, Jet swallows the boy whole, can **feel** the head of Zuko's dick pressing heavily against the back of his throat. A little hiss escapes Zuko. Growling hungrily, Jet begins laving the hardened member earning strained whimpers and moans, distracting Zuko from the prodding of his entrance, but apparently it isn't enough for Zuko instantly tenses once he feels the first finger slide in, Jet looks up to meet the teen's eyes but Zuko isn't paying attention to him, his attention taken by the intrusion. A little annoyed, Jet gives a light bite to the flesh in his mouth . . . this is enough to snap Zuko's attention back to him; Jet pulls off with a loud, lewd slurping sound.

"Relax."

"Relax?" Zuko blinks, "How can I relax when you have your - !?"

" **Relax."** Jet reiterates, "Trust me, you're going to want to."

An irritated sounding sigh escapes Zuko, but he relaxes, Jet only grins and turns his attention to his fingers, drawing his finger out, he slowly pushes back in . . . he does this thrice before Zuko tries closing his legs, but with Jet wedged between his thighs, he can only close them so far. Jet looks up, meeting Zuko's embarrassed face.

"Stop staring." Zuko rumbles, face beet red, "It's . . . embarrassing."

So cute.

Jet smiles, leaning forward to place a kiss on Zuko's lips, "Okay, I'll stop staring, but you better do something to distract me~."

With a final glare, Zuko wraps his arms around Jet and pulls him in for another kiss which quickly turns in to a heated make out session . . . finally working three fingers inside, Jet kisses Zuko once more before pulling back so there's only an inch between their mouths as he unbuttons and unzips his pants (he doesn't **believe** in underwear), straightening up, he spits a generous amount of saliva into his palm and coats his dick with the makeshift lubricant, he looks back to Zuko who's watching, eyes trained on his erection.

"You're going to want to relax."

Because Jet was by **no** means small.

"O-Okay."

Guiding himself, Jet presses the head against the entrance before slowly slipping in with Zuko doing his best not to tense up too terribly at the burning sensation.

Jet sighs heavily into Zuko's ear, "God . . . so good." Zuko wraps his arms around Jet and buries his face into the teen's shoulder, "So, **so** good. Gonna make you feel so good."

Slowly, tenderly, Jet pulls out and pushes back in, Zuko's arms tighten and his legs wrap around his hips. Having a warm body clinging to him has Jet's hunger spiking erratically, but taking a **virgin** is another thing entirely. Shivering, Jet continues his gentle rhythm . . . at least until Zuko rolls his hips against him.

"Faster."

Jet grins, reels back, grabs Zuko's hips and situates him so his ass is hanging off the couch, with little to no warning; Jet gives a vicious thrust earning the arching of Zuko's back and a moan. God, **yes.** Pounding into the dark haired boy, Jet watches Zuko, head thrown back, mouth opening and panting, skin shining with sweat, body flushed with heat, and muscles quivering. Jet dips forward, lapping at the sweat on the teen's chest. Zuko makes for a pretty sight . . . his body is **so** deliciously sinful, but his mind so painfully virtuous. Jet **loves** it. Picking Zuko up off the couch, he switches their position so he's lying on the couch with Zuko situated on his lap. Jet licks his lips. **So** delicious. Lifting Zuko's hips, he holds the teen in place before **slamming** his hips against Zuko, the latter yelping and scrabbling to get a hold of something before settling on the holding the couch's backrest and Jet's chest. Licking at the sweat near his mouth, Jet takes it up a notch, the force causing Zuko's skin to redden. The sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the living room, and Jet is getting **so** close.

"J-Jet . . . ," Zuko gasps, nails scratching painfully along Jet's chest, "I . . . I can't . . . not," the teen throws his head back, spurts of white coating Jet's abdomen, "A-Ah . . . !"

Switching their position once more so Zuko is lying upon his back, Jet situates one of the raven haired boy's leg against his shoulder and wastes no time in impaling the other once again, Zuko moans, shutting his eyes and turning his face away from Jet . . . but Jet wants to see his face. Reaching out, he forces Zuko to face him.

"I wanna see those pretty eyes." he breathes heavily.

"I don't . . . ah!" Zuko's back arches, "Jet! I . . . !"

Jet slams their lips together in a messy kiss, his thrusts losing their fast pace rhythm and becoming more frenzied, desperate . . . a sharp inhale is all the warning Zuko gets before he feels something **warm** spill inside him, he wants to glare at the taller boy but he can't quite muster up the energy, especially when Jet lets out a **very** satisfied breath and falls upon him, completely boneless. Oddly enough, Zuko finds that **he's** the only one trying to catch his breath while Jet remains limp and heavy . . . an unpleasant thought of comparing the guy to a dead body disgusts Zuko enough to shove at Jet's shoulder.

Jet whines out a muffled, "Stay."

At least he isn't dead, Zuko's sluggish, "Get off. I gotta get home."

Jet whines again but doesn't make any kind of move to pick himself up, "I dun wanna . . . ."

"Jet . . . ."

"No . . . you're too good." Jet mumbles, he wraps his arms around Zuko, a quiet moan escaping Zuko as Jet pulls out and moves so they're spooning, he mutters into Zuko's lightly damp hair, "'m gonna keep you. Make you mine."

Zuko rolls his eyes, but he can't help but feel mildly **content** knowing that Jet wants him around . . . the feeling dies soon enough once he realizes the other only wants him around for sex, Zuko tries to pry at Jet's fingers but the latter refuses to budge, his attempts only earn him the tightening of Jet's arms, the taller teen curling around Zuko.

"Jet!" Zuko snaps, "You better not fall asleep, I swear to **God!"**

Jet hums, "Mmm . . . swear all you want, I'm not moving."

Zuko sighs, "Jet . . . I **really** need to go home. I thought this was a onetime thing!"

This seems to snap Jet out of it, his grip relinquishes, "Yeah . . . guess so." Zuko sits up, he's sore but it's manageable, "Wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Of course you wouldn't." Zuko gathers his clothes and feels mildly disgusting when he feel something warm seeping down his thighs . . . God, he was going to need to take a shower and wash his clothes.

Jet tucks himself back inside his pants, "Want me to walk you home?"

"No," Zuko says as he pulls both his underwear and pants on, "I'll be fine on my own."

Jet shrugs and reclines on the couch, "Okay, whatever you say."

There's something freakishly malevolent in the way Jet moves, the way his eyes flash darkly and mouth setting into a tight smile, everything about the picture the tanned male makes sets Zuko on high alert. Hurrying into his clothes with his hair standing on end, he makes for the exit and leaves the oddly silent, unoccupied apartment without looking back. The black haired teen is halfway home when his phone buzzes menacingly, immediately he knows who it is, sighing, he reaches for the device and glances at the alert, he currently had one message from Azula, his little sister asking (DEMANDING) him to get the groceries. Staring at the screen until it goes dark, Zuko shrugs and stuffs the cell back into his pant pocket. Looking both ways, he crosses the street and begins walking in the direction of the store . . . as he's walking along, he can feel eyes boring into the back of his skull. Paranoia forces him to glance inconspicuously over his shoulder, he doesn't see anyone looking in his vicinity let alone anyone who seems out of place. Turning back around, Zuko tries to will his mind to rest by telling himself that no one is stupid enough to follow him in **broad** daylight.

Entering the store, he's met with the same feeling, but like before there is no one looking at him, no one looking out of place. Annoyed, he grabs a red cart and begins going through the list of things Azula said they needed. But in each aisle he visits, he feels those same intense eyes staring him down. Glancing around the aisle, he sees no one, frowning, Zuko throws the box into the cart, and if his pace is a little faster than before, no one can blame him.

Nearing his home, he still feels those eyes on him but they're not as pronounced, glancing around the area, he still sees **no one** around, annoyed with his own paranoia, he hurries inside and gets to work on trying to forget the strange feeling that froze his bones to the marrow. Later after the siblings have finished their dinner, their mother having disappeared when they were young and their father having been killed only a year prior, Zuko hears the knocking at the door and sees the way Azula wordlessly rises to answer it, this should have been odd as she usually ordered **him** to get the door, but he figures it must be one of her friends. When he sees Azula leading Jet into the house, he **should have** been alarmed, but he never listens to his gut when it matters the most, he simply assumes they're friends. That night, when Zuko wakes to an alarming feeling choking all of the oxygen from the air, he feels someone pressed up behind him, he twists his body so he can meet the person's gaze. It's Jet. The teen smiles at him with a mouthful of teeth that look more appropriate on that of a feral wolf-bat, Jet runs his fingers soothingly from his neck, down his naked torso, and into his red boxers where he grasps Zuko's uninterested member, Jet presses his mouth to Zuko's mangled ear.

"I **told** you that I was going to keep you. Make you mine." he begins stroking Zuko, the teen finding it hard to move and his mind growing fuzzy, "Don't worry, I'll make this feel good~."

Before Zuko's mind bows into the darkness, he faintly registers the feeling of pleasure mixed with a sharp pain in his neck that soon spreads throughout his body, can feel something moving through his veins like a parasite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos. Comment. Whatever I dun care!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took for FUCKING ever and I'm so pissed about that! ANyway, have this chapter I finally had two brain cells to put together . . . I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender.

**Water is Sweeter than Blood: 2**

**76 Years Later**

Exhausted, shaky, and starving, Zuko stops before an out of the way pond with moss coating the surface along with various dead leaves from the surrounding trees. Falling to his hands and knees, he looks at himself in the murky water's surface, but despite it being filthy, he can still see his disgustingly pale skin and the feverish glow of his eyes. Head pounding, the undead boy sits on his rear and brings his right leg up to his chest to take a better look at the broken tip of an arrow, an arrow that had been shot at him by one of those vampires that have been chasing him all over the continent. All because he caught the eye of their leader. Swallowing hard, he falls onto his back and stares up at the thick overhang of leaves and branches, the arrow being dropped from his mind as exhaustion begins to take over his brain . . . he's about to close his eyes when his stomach roils, rolling onto his hands and knees, he begins coughing up black gunk that smells foul. A noise in the nearby bushes catches his attention, eyes snapping up, he eyes the bramble irritably until he's forced to heave more of that stuff out of his gut. Vision blurry with tears, he can't see whoever it is that steps out of the underbrush until he sees a blurry pair of shoes at his side, they don't look familiar and he can't really scent them out thanks to the disgusting black sludge, so he relinquishes himself to their mercy as his body heaves once more, that black muck being spit out.

A hand holding a cup of water enters his view, "Here."

The sixteen year old wastes no time in grabbing the cup and swishing the water around before spitting it out and chugging the rest down. Pride be damned. Tossing the cup over his shoulder, he feels the person nudge him with a plastic bottle, Zuko stares at it momentarily before realizing what it's filled with. Snatching the plastic bottle filled with red liquid, he rips the bottle's neck off and tilts his head back, guzzling the crimson life-liquid with little car3e as to what his surprise visitor thinks of him. Once the blood is gone, he flicks his tongue out, stretching it until it presses against the bottom of the bottle and begins lapping at the little remnants. Licking at the corners of his mouth in search for the lingering phantom taste, he tosses the empty bottle aside and turns his attention on the person . . . his surprise visitor is male, old, probably in his late 50s or early 60s, with a bald head and a white moustache, he's dressed in clothes similar to that of a temple-man.

Zuko swipes at his mouth with his dirty arm, eyes narrowing on the man, "Who are you?"

"I am Monk Gyatso." the old man says kindly, "I was on my way to my temple from a sister temple when I heard you coughing."

"And you came to help?" Zuko scoffs incredulously, "You know what I am, why would you help me?"

"Because, despite your appearance and what you are you still feel, you were human once too."

"Why would a monk be carrying a bottle of blood with him in the first place?" Zuko frowns, "That doesn't seem like a thing you religious types would do."

"It is for occasions such as these." Monk Gyatso smiles, "For immortals adapting to their new lives."

"That's stupid and you're a moron." Zuko spits harshly, "You're going to get yourself killed."

Gyatso only smiles, "I have not reached this ripe old age of mine without having a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Whatever . . . thanks." Zuko murmurs finally, "But I've got to get going."

"Oh?" Gyatso stands as well, "Are there hunters after you?"

Zuko pauses, "Something like that."

"Where is your Sire?" Gyatso asks with momentary surprise in his eyes, "They should . . . ,"

"They shouldn't do **anything!"** Zuko shouts, small embers spewing from his mouth, "My **Sire** is the one I'm running from! I can't eat! I can't drink! I can't sleep! I can't do **anything** without his **worshippers** finding me wherever I go! And no matter what I do, they're **always** there!" Zuko sighs, "Really, thanks for the quick meal but I **have** to get going, they'll be here any minute and you should get moving too, these guys, they don't really much **care** for humans. You won't last a minute, let alone a second against them."

"Perhaps," Gyatso speaks thoughtfully, stopping Zuko in his tracks, "There is a place you **can** go."

Of course the vamp was hesitant and a little disbelieving as there had been numerous others who'd claimed such things, but he figured that he had nothing to lose and if the old geezer proved a threat, he was confident that he was fully capable of killing the old man . . . what he hadn't expected was this supposed 'safe-haven' to be a temple engraved within the rock of a rather high summit where the air was thin and numerous male and females were dressed in orange/yellow robes.

"Uh . . . where are we?"

"This is where you will escape your pursuers."

"Right . . . ," Zuko frowns disdainfully, "I'll believe that when I see it."

**W-S-B**

Evil. Demonic. Psychotic. Those were only a few choice words out of a thousand that the humans used when they associated with him, of course, none would dare say so to his face . . . perhaps that only reinforced the words tossed at him. But he could be kind; he cared for all of those within his guild. Not to mention that his heart, undead or not, had been snagged by a pretty little thing made of fire.

Eyes hooded and glazed over with a dark lust, he stares long and hard at his well endowed flame as she mouths and licks at his clothed erection, she's hot, with curves in all the right places, not to mention, desperate for his touch amongst other things. When she gives a teasing bite to the tent in his pants, he bites down **hard** on his tongue to keep himself from making any sort of sound. Blood soon rapidly floods his mouth but this doesn't deter him. Swallowing back the blood, he runs his injured appendage over his lips, leaving a bloody trail along his lower/upper lip. Bringing a bottle to his bloodied lips, he guzzles the alcohol down like a raging alcoholic, the tanned young man relishing within the sting the burning liquid leaves behind. The throbbing pain adding to his arousal and pleasure. Draining the bottle, he drops it to the floor and hoists the girl to her feet and smashes their lips together in a heated frenzy, the girl, whose name he's already forgotten some time ago, lets out a feminine whine and hitches her leg upon his waist. Grabbing her ass, he pulls her closer and grinds their groins together, creating delicious friction . . . all of this, the lust, the attraction, and the mood is ruined once the door opens and the lights from the foyer fills the dim lit room, interrupting their heated make out session.

"Really Jet?" a tough feminine voice hisses from the light, "Again?"

Licking his lips lazily, he grins drunkenly at the three intruders, "What can I say~?"

Now Jet may be in love with a pretty little bird that he's thought about day in and day out, even **during** sex with another, that doesn't mean he was going to stay celibate until said **bird** was back in his arms, or rather, **underneath** him . . . panting and wanting more.

Smellerbee frowns before her eyes fall upon the girl, "Leave."

Despite the girl's height, her tone is short and clipped with just enough authority that it startles the buxom girl as she hastily fixes her clothing, zipping past the largest of the trio and shutting the door behind her in the process. Sighing at the loss of his partner, Jet slides down the wall he'd been leaning against until he's sitting amongst the numerous glass bottles splayed out around him, he'd drunken enough to give a fully grown, adult male alcohol poisoning.

"Jet . . . you've **got** to stop sleeping around!" Smellerbee snaps, Longshot and Pipsqueak spreading out into the room, "We've already got enough trouble with the ones you've kicked to the curb and can't quite take the hint! We don't need any more clinger ons!" Jet only laughs, the inebriated sound grating on the girl's nerves, "If you want this **Zuko** guy to be safe when they finally catch him, you're going to have to clean up your act!"

This sobers Jet right up; he glares at the girl he's been friends with for over a handful of centuries, "That's the thing," Jet snarls, rising to his feet, eyes crisp and voice clear, "It's been seven **decades** and they haven't **caught** him yet! Who knows how much longer it'll be before they finally **do!"** he doesn't miss the way Pipsqueak flinches. The guy wasn't very good at subtly. Jet's fangs elongate, his nails darken and grow into talons, "And let me guess," he growls, voice sinister and aura threatening, "They didn't **catch** him, **did** they."

"Well actually . . . ," Pipsqueak starts anxiously, feeling both Longshot and Smellerbee cast him cautious looks telling him to tread lightly, " . . . the tracker team said they uh, **lost** him."

Jet's eyes turn black, the darkness engulfing all color, "What do you **mean** they lost him?"

"They lost him in a forest, but they did find coagulated black blood." Smellerbee states quietly, deciding to take Jet's anger off of Pipsqueak, the guy had The Duke to take care of after all, "They said by the looks of it, he isn't managing his body well. They followed his scent to some nearby mountain range and just . . . lost the trail. There was nothing for them to follow, no scent, no hints, tracks. Nothing."

"So he just . . . **disappeared?"** Jet frowns, nails piercing the skin of his palms, "In broad **daylight?"**

She always hated when he got like this, "Yes."

"He's . . . he **can't** step foot in the light. How is it possible for him to just disappear in **broad daylight?"**

"He . . . he **does** control fire." Pipsqueak offers weakly, "Maybe that gives him some kind of immunity?"

"That **doesn't** happen." Jet hisses, Smellerbee sees some nearby shadows flicker, "You'd have to live as long as **I** have, and even **then** you'd have to have fed from thousands . . . **millions!"** Pipsqueak opens his mouth again but Jet doesn't want to hear his simplistic reasoning, " **GET OUT!"**

Hastily, the three friends exit the room, shutting the door in time to cut off a demonic sounding scream followed closely by things breaking and crashing, Smellerbee really hoped the tracking team would catch that guy already . . . it was times like this that Jet scared the guild, but despite this, they were extremely loyal to him, something that Azula found highly fascinating. Entering the room shortly after the three left, she's greeted by the sight of the entire room ruined with shadows flickering and being where they shouldn't be under normal circumstances. At the center of the destruction is a tall figure with two dark brown wings protruding from the figure's back, claws where hands should be, and a twitching tail . . . Jet was a wolf-bat unlike herself and her pathetic brother, according to the reports. Both siblings were dragon-bats, how that happened is a mystery unto itself.

"And you're supposed to be a **Harbinger?"**

"What do you want Azula?" Jet snarls, his voice cruel and hellish, "Our arrangement was carried out, you have no reason to be here."

He had **power** and that awoke something within the girl, "It may be but that doesn't mean we can't hang out as friends," she sees Jet's upper lip curl back into a snarl, "That and I came to see how big a tantrum you threw this time. What, Zuzu still refusing to return?"

"I don't have time for you." Jet spits, shadowy tendrils twisting like snakes around his body, "Get out."

"No." Azula smirks, "I don't think I will as I'm in need of some entertainment," she sets a nearby chair upright, "So please. Continue."

The lightning wielder fully expects the clawed hand at her throat and slamming her into a nearby wall, she takes in the Harbinger as he bears his teeth in a threatening manner, his eyes cold and black. He's strong and overwhelming. And there's just something so appealing about it all that she tilts her head to the side and shows her neck to the demonic male. The reaction is immediate, the hand around her throat is replaced by dagger like teeth carelessly biting into her flesh, the sudden pain making her gasp inaudibly. Wrapping a leg around Jet's waist, she pulls him close and rubs herself against his groin. The feral growl that rips from his throat has her shivering.

Jet pulls away, blood coating his mouth and chin, he glares at the girl, "Don't think this means anything."

Azula leans forward, licking her own blood off of Jet's lips and whispers, "I wouldn't **dare** think of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT'S GOING ON HERE JET!?!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while, but you can thank MARVELLoki_Zuko for helping me! I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender!

**Water is Sweeter than Blood: 3**

" _Remember when we used to play?" Jet asks, voice dripping with honey, "Remember how it was_ _ **me**_ _who helped throughout all these years?" he dances around the desk to stand behind the man sitting in the expensive leather chair, "Remember how you_ _ **promised**_ _me that you'd change the world for the better?"_

_The man in question sits silently behind his heavy wooden desk, in his expensive leather chair, his hazel eyes staring dead ahead at the wooden doors to his office . . . he sees wisps of shadows flicker, almost like a cat's tail, lazy and content in its power, he doesn't flinch, not when the immortal places a cold hand upon his neck and the other flat against his chest, just above his beating heart._

" _Now you're 42 years old with a successful job, a fantastic mansion, and two beautiful children," Jet removes his hands and sits upon the edge of the desk, "But you haven't made a move to change the world for the better. Tell me Ozai, do I have to retake all that I have given to you?"_

_Ozai's silence is all the answer Jet needs, frowning deeply, the vampiric boy wastes no time in executing the man right on the spot. It should bother him that he's watching his old_ _**friend's** _ _decapitated head fall off his shoulders and land with a heavy thud on the floor, but it doesn't, Jet hates liars . . . even if he is one himself. Rising to his feet, he dusts his pants off and saunters towards the opened window, leaving the body and the bloody mess for the servants or the two kids to find._

Azula watches Jet as he addresses the group of seedy looking men, they all fear him, she can tell in the way they stand, even the way they **breathe,** and it's because of their fear that attracts her to the wild man in the first place. But she isn't the only one attracted to the Harbinger as he's had and taken many lovers before her, each one he leaves are left wanting more, hungering for the taste of power the Harbinger exudes, the chaos and the fear. It's wonderful, she thinks, that she gets to be the one allowed more than a single taste . . . even after Jet claims it will be the last.

_**Click.** _

Realizing that is the sound of the door closing, Azula comes to and notices that the men are gone and Jet is currently sitting upon the office chair behind his desk with his feet propped upon the worn desk, in his hand is a glass tumbler filled with crystal clear liquid and a single circular ball of ice. Besides his ability to strike fear into the hearts of mortals and immortals alike, he's downright handsome in a flattering roguish way, especially dressed as he is . . . a worn black tank, dirty worn jeans, worn black boots, and a single black band wrapped around his wrist, it's a ratty look, but he somehow makes it look good. Even that tattered tan bomber jacket he'd scrounged up from somewhere.

"Something on your mind?"

"I was thinking," Azula hums lowly, inching her leg forward and revealing a little skin from the robe she wore, "That it's been a while, and I'm in need of some . . . entertainment."

Jet hikes an unimpressed brow before snorting into his drink, tipping his head back and swallows the alcoholic beverage in one go, "Right." Jet says after he lets out a satisfied sigh, "Go find yourself another fuck buddy, I'm not in the mood for you and your brand of crazy."

The female immortal frowns internally, but on the surface, she offers a seductive smile, "Why not?"

The Harbinger looks her body up and down before settling on staring her in the eyes, "You're missing a little **something-something** between the legs there."

This time, Azula **does** frown . . . it always comes back to her pathetic brother, everyone within Jet's guild knows of his infatuation/obsession with the male West and it's no secret that when Jet takes lovers, that he sometimes lets **Zuko's** name slip from his lips . . . he's done that to her more times than she cares to count and she **hates** that when he comes back to her in the end that it's simply because he's settling for **second-best,** after all, she's **Zuko's** sister and they share a few traits. Genetically.

Why had others loved Zuko more than her?

She was better, faster, stronger, and smarter.

She was more talented than her brother could **ever** be.

"Uh, can you go?" Jet speaks, he's even doing the **shooing** motion with his unoccupied hand, "You're disrupting my peace by sitting there looking like I just helped a little old lady cross the street."

She hates how he doesn't fear her, but she loves it all the same, "Fine. But don't come crawling back to me when no one wants to indulge you in your carnal desires. Especially after you call them by the wrong name."

Jet shrugs, it's dismissive and carefree, she **really** hates him, "Fine by me."

They both know there'll be others ready and willing to indulge him, there's always someone waiting. Stalkers, the lot of them. With all the grace she possesses, Azula rises to her feet and leaves the room, allowing Jet to enjoy the silence and hormone free air . . . sex was becoming a little stale.

**35 Years Later**

As the first light of dawn begins to stretch across the sky from the east, Zuko is ready to head into the depths of the temple and away from the light when something strikes him through the chest; legs turning to jelly and gravity intensifying, the vampiric boy nearly falls to his knees until his gut churns. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he spins his attention back to the horizon . . . there's an overwhelming feeling plaguing the air from the east, it's dirty and it's sick, it speaks of death, it smells of rot, it tastes of blood, it feels like the dead.

"Do you feel that?"

The vampiric boy tears his gaze from the horizon to stare at the face of his caretaker and mentor, having heard the old man approach despite his light footfalls, the old monk continues staring off into the eastern skies . . . almost like he can see what it is. And despite knowing that he could easily look into the man's eyes and take all the information he wanted, but he felt it was unnecessary, as well as rude, so Zuko remains silent, staring at the old monk until he decides to share his insight. But when Monk Gyatso finally graces him with his attention, the old man does not speak what is on his mind and instead smiles one of his fatherly smiles, his hands hidden within his robes.

"The sun is rising; perhaps you should head on inside."

Zuko frowns, that isn't what he wants to hear, but he picks up on something strange in the old man's countenance and does as he's told for once. The whole thing putting him on edge, even when Aang shows him a trick he's learned from some of the other kids at the temple . . . its dusk when it happens:

"Quick." Gyatso pushes Aang towards Zuko, "Take Aang and hide. Both of you."

"Wait! What's going on!?" Aang exclaims, the eleven year old taking a step forward, "Gyatso?!"

"Just hide!"

"Wait! If . . . I can help!" Zuko takes a determined step closer to the monk, "I'm . . . !"

"No! I want you both to be safe!" Gyatso shouts, startling both boys into silence, "Now go! And whatever you hear, whatever you think is happening, **do not** come out until you're **absolutely** sure!"

Pursing his lips, Zuko finally nods and grabs Aang's wrist, forcing the mortal boy to follow as they run from their caretaker, Aang watching Gyatso turn and run towards the sound of loud voices. As they're running, Zuko notices the older monks are out and they're all heading in the same direction, no kids to be seen, he wonders if they've been told to hide as well. Finding one of the hidden rooms, Zuko quickly shoves Aang into the room and flings himself inside as well, spinning on his heel; he begins to barricade the entrance with the heaviest things the room has to offer.

There's the feeling of sickness. But this time it's stronger. Swallowing the bile back down, he weakly backs away from the boarded entrance and sits upon the stone ground beside Aang. Everything is too much. He can hear everything. See everything too clearly. Feel too strongly.

"What's going on Zuko?"

"I . . . I don't know."

It's not entirely a lie.

Thirty minutes pass, the nauseous feeling coming and going, he's about to dip into sleep just as Aang had, but a minute after he shuts his eyes, he hears it . . . a shrill scream that makes his head split. Choking around the sounds of his own pain, he slaps his palms to protect his oversensitive ears. Something's going on . . . what's going on?

_Too much. Too much._

_More screams. More pain._

_Can't make too much noise._

_Blood. There's blood._

_Sick. Sick. Sick._

"Zuko? Zuko?!" _Aang._ "Are you okay?!"

_Can't make too much noise._

"Shhh!" is all Zuko can bring himself to say, even as tears fall from his eyes.

_Blood._

_Death._

_Decay._

_Cry. Cry. Cry._

Its **hours** before everything falls silent, slowly he forces his hands away from his ears, both he and Aang stare at the barricaded entrance before looking at one another. Wetting his lips, Zuko stands on shaky legs and creeps towards the blocked entrance, one by one, he removes the stuff blocking the stone entrance . . . holding a hand out for Aang to stay put, Zuko ventures into the halls. Almost immediately, he can smell blood, and **lots** of it. Death hangs heavy in the air. Willing himself to move, his feet take him to the main hall, on his way there, he sees doors ripped open, broken down, inside the rooms are the bodies of the younger monks, he feels sick . . . in the great hall is where he sees the bodies of the older monks, hundreds of them scattered everywhere. Both human and vampiric. Almost on instinct, he spots Gyatso's body amongst the carnage. Zuko recoils, mouth opening . . . a gasp at his side startles him.

Aang runs from Zuko's side and darts towards Monk Gyatso's body, careful not to step or trip over any of the bodies, once he's at his caretaker's side, he falls to his knees and begins to cry. Zuko doesn't know what to do.

"W-Who would d-do this!?"

"I-I don't know." Zuko whispers, "But . . . we shouldn't stay."

"Wait . . . ," Aang looks at him with frantic eyes, "What about them?"

"There's nothing we can do, and whoever did this may come back."

"C-Can't we bury them or something?"

"Bury them where?!"

"I . . . !" Aang falters, turns his gaze back to Gyatso, "What do we do?"

"We . . . we've got to leave."

" . . . okay."

**One Year Later**

Making sure he had his three human charges, Zuko pulls open the door leading into the large mismatched warehouse, letting the originally muffled loud music and sounds flood past them, clear as day, nose wrinkling in distaste at the smells in general, the vampire steps inside, feeling the three human children cling to him as a shield. Nearby onlookers glance at him once, before doing a double take, the look they give him makes him uneasy, and if he pushes into the touch of his three friends, then it can't be helped. The voices die down followed by the music abruptly cutting off, the revving of the engines cut out . . . it's when the crowd parts for them does Zuko realize that something terrible is going to happen. The path the crowd makes leads up to the stage where the band had been playing. A man jumps from the stage and lands upon the concrete floor, he looks like any other vampire would but there's something about him that has Zuko backing up, forcing the three others to back up as well.

Once the guy is ten feet away, Zuko is hit by realization . . . the original uneasiness melts into a heated rage, he grits his teeth and flames spring to life from his fists, the man only grins, fueling Zuko's rage:

"Well, well, well, what do we have here~?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER! Is it a cliffhanger!?


End file.
